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[It starts with a short sigh and the shake of a head.]

We've just received the information and already...Like herding tookas...

[Despite the vocal filter, he sounds mildly annoyed as he tosses a stick aside. Ignore the small piles of rubble and rock with lines drawn around them in the background. That's not important right now. It's Bizness.]

Before anyone else does anything, I suggest we all take the precautions necessary like organizing other groups to see who wants to go an' who's staying in Temba.

Because having an actual plan in case of emergency is preferable.

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It is, but ... it's also ...

[she sighs, slowly, and doesn't like the strange pressure building in her chest. it's making her eyes sting, and she really doesn't want to cry in front of him. she doesn't cry in front of anyone. ever. it's a sign of weakness and vulnerability. Aeon breathes in, filling her lungs in an effort to try and keep the tears at bay.]

If I don't have a mission to focus on, all I can do is think about the past. And I'm not liking what I see. ... The only things I'm finding I really do like are ...

[her voice nearly breaks. there are other good moments, from her life before. she needs to start with those, to remember that not everything before now was an Aeon Flux she doesn't want to be.]

The moments when what I was doing really was for good, times no one innocent got caught in the crosshairs. The time I spent with my sister, Una. Moments when Trevor and I weren't fighting, just ... teasing each other. But more than any of that, lately, when I look back ... there's one night I keep coming back to. Something that makes me feel like I might actually know what I'm doing. A night I did what was right, instead of what I was being paid to do, and ... got more than I think I deserved.

[Thinking seems to be a common enemy. It's something he quickly relates to, hitting as if to remind him that it can't be escaped. Reminding them of what they've done up until they arrived, what they've been pulled away away from, what they cannot easily return to.

But his thoughts aren't important at the moment.

He doesn't turn right away, silently waiting as Aeon tries to keep it together. The near break of her voice forces him to look, his brow touched with concern. And he stays quiet for a little longer.

It's not an awkward silence - it's the kind he falls into when things get serious. And this deserves his attention.

When she speaks again, he pushes away from the table, walking over to where she perches. A boot hooks around the ottoman, pulling it up a bit so that he can sit down in front of her, one arm resting on his thigh, letting his gaze drop for a second before glancing up at her.]

...What happened?

[she looks up at him. under a normal situation, she'd be smiling, but there's a hint of fear in her eyes even as she tries to]

You know. You were there for the whole thing.

[If he notices the underlying fear, he doesn't say anything in regards to it, holding her gaze as he processes what she means by that.

And once he does, it hits him.]

[That night.

And a lengthy pause draws itself out.]

...Oh. [According to the way he briefly averts his gaze and the tinge of color darkening his cheeks, he hasn't forgotten.] I was, wasn't I?

[Aeon nods.]

I haven't felt like I connected with anyone like that, not here. Even Chairman Goodchild ... we had chemistry, we had something, but ... we were on opposite sides. One day I'd enjoy flirting with him, we'd toy with each other. The next day we were trying to kill each other, and meant it.

This is different. This is --

[Aeon halts]

-- you're -- a good person. Better than me.

Aeon...

[Echo hears how difficult it is to open up about things of this nature, eyes slowly watching her face as he tries his best to understand the dynamic of her past relationship.

A confusing world with complicated rules of engagement, to be sure, but whose world -- whose galaxy -- isn't?

Upon being called a good person, his brow creases slightly, tone softening as he places a hand on her arm.]

Ever since we've all been brought here, things have been different. For every one of us. And it hasn't been easy trying to break away from what we've known -- from what I've known my entire life. And I may not know the reasons behind your actions, but I don't want to hear you putting yourself down like that.

If I'm considered a good person, I feel like you can be good too.

[she looks down at his hand, and all the uncertainty she'd been feeling about her past in that moment drains from her in a single breath.]

You're not the only one who's said that.

[she looks back up at him, meets his eyes, and reaches up to rest her fingers on his cheek carefully, as though he might break if she touches him wrong]

But I only feel like this about you.

Then that's something worthwhile...

[He trails off. He doesn't move when she touches him, skin warm, jaw setting because there's a lot to think about.

The emphasis on his part in all of this is new -- a feeling he's never dealt with before.]

Is it going to be a problem? Feeling this way?

[she takes a slow breath in]

I've ... I'm not sure.

One of the previous versions of me, she ... she fell in love. When she really wasn't supposed to. It ruined our plan. It was the only time there've ever been two of me at once, and she had to die to fix her mistake. The look in her eyes ... I've seen it in the mirror.

[she looks up at Echo, biting her lower lip. he is, for certain, no Trevor Goodchild. a far, far better person, and someone who respects her a great deal more. the only games they play with each other are the kind where no one loses anything but time.]

I don't want it to be a problem. But I don't want to lose myself either...

[He's gone from a quiet worry to a vague sense of disbelief toward how the clones in her world are treated in the way she talks about it, dying to fix a mistake she's made in the first place. Oscillating between emotions and questions left unspoken because she doesn't need to be interrogated about something she's regretting.

And for good reason. Because the last statement in her confession clears all of it away.

"The look in her eyes ... I've seen it in the mirror."

And...his chest hurts? It's her realization, and he doesn't want to see her like this. To feel the way she does over the choices she had and still has to make.]

Hey. [His hand moves down her arm, clasping her hand and giving it a firm squeeze. To support her. To comfort her.] So long as you know that. If you know who you are, you won't lose yourself.

[she's not used to pressure meaning comfort, but ... she likes it, just like she does in just about any other form. Aeon threads her fingers with his on an instinct, and squeezes back.]

It was so easy for me to do this, when I didn't remember who I was. When I could just ... [-'love you'-] ... trust what I was feeling. Do you really think it could still be that easy, here? ... Do I deserve easy?

[It feels natural, holding her hand like this. A glimpse of a memory briefly superimposes itself over what he sees, fading yet not forgotten.]

I don't know if I have the right answer for it.

Just like you, I fell into whatever role I was given. I think it was the same for everyone else in that fake city whether they were aware of it or not.

I admit coming back from that reality was kind of tough, but I'm not blaming anyone for not being themselves at the time. I'm not blaming you, either.

...So. I feel like you deserve a chance.

[he's not blaming her. he's not judging her. he's not like any of those angry, accusing faces that the gas had made her see: the ones she's still so convinced were real. the weight of that relief nearly knocks her over, and she manages to walk up and put her hands on his shoulders and make it look like a gesture of tenderness instead of an effort to stay upright.]

... Thank you, Echo. I ... don't want to waste it.

[she leans in to kiss him, gently]

[The weight of the silence between them is worrying. Did he say something wrong? Is it an answer she didn't want to hear? Echo leans back a little as a means to give her some space, only stopping when she thanks him.

The second she tries to stand, he rises with her, hands slipping away from hers, not yet dropping down to his sides. Literally grounding her is what he does, what he doesn't consciously notice when she leans in for the kiss.

Whatever reply he has in mind, whatever thoughts occupy that space -- it's simply gone.

Hesitation is fleeting. His hands find her again, resting on her waist as he reciprocates.]

[this, she knows. it's a language she speaks, and well, and she pours every emotion she's feeling into the kiss while keeping it from being too hard or insistent. just a slow, deep burn of an embrace, her arms slipping from his shoulders to drape around his back, one hand threading up into the soft fuzz of his crew cut. she could stay like this forever, but he'll need to breathe.

after a long while, she draws away and just ... smiles, laying a hand on his cheek. she's not sure she needs to say the 'thank you' she can feel resting at the back of her throat.]

[He remembers the feeling, somewhat reflecting how they got to this point the way they first did.

Slow and steady appears to be the best route. He has a better feel for the kiss, feeling the way she kisses, how he should respond without moving too quickly, careful while being almost experimental. He relies on instinct to tell him if his hands should stay in one place or move elsewhere along her body -- which one eventually does as his arm pulls her closer to him, trailing up her side, fingers tracing faint lines up and across the middle of her back.

The sensation of her fingers in his hair fire off nerve endings in a different way, almost making him forget how to breathe until their lips part.

And he inhales, slowly, face hot under her touch as he looks into her eyes.]

...You're welcome.

[He sounds a little dazed, but he'll be fine.]

[she hums softly, content, and lets them stay hanging like that in each other's arms for a moment, savoring it. first moments like this ... they don't come around again. it's why they're firsts.

then she takes her hand from his hair and pats his cheek: once, twice, fond but playful]

Come on, handsome. Let's see what this new place has to offer... I'm sure there's lots to poke around in. We can play later.

[If he's being honest with himself, he probably wouldn't have minded staying like that. The cheek pats bring him back up to speed, however, eyelids fluttering as he visibly switches gears.]

--Right. [He clears his throat, arms loosening as he leans away.] We should go and do that.

[Aeon threads her fingers with his - a silent reassurance that she's not going anywhere, and that she'd noticed his hesitation]

Lead the way to the station. I'd be fine keeping you to myself, but I have a feeling your friends wouldn't.

[The reassurance does its job. He doesn't do anything to loosen the hold, casting another glance at their entwined fingers as he considers what Aeon says, tipping his head slightly off to one side in thought.]

...I could make them wait a little longer. But that would be mean. [This is said with a hint of a smile.] Not like that will stop anybody, anyway. We have some time to gather up everything we need first.

[Which is true. It also buys them a little more time to themselves. And he's fine with it -- even if it's just them holding hands for a while longer.]

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thought this was a 2/2 when I saw it but there was only 1 in my inbox. SO CONFUSE.

Hahahah I got lazy and cheated the system XD

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care to wrap it up? :)

Done and done :D